Rebirth And Salvation
by Wyldehart
Summary: A one-shot about the moment Sebastian realizes how much he loves Deandra Hawke. But first, he must accept the fact that sometimes things happen because they must happen. ***HEAVY ENDGAME SPOILERS*** *Sex, language*


**Rebirth and Salvation**

_**A story about the union of Sebastian Vael and Deandra Hawke.**_

_This story contains heavy end-game spoilers so read at your own risk. There's also some mildly graphic sex and if you find the sexualization of our hottest and most pure DA2 character, don't read. I remained mostly in canon/character territory save the three pages of intense love-making. Or tried to. It's an original one-shot piece that takes place about three days after the end of the war that shook Kirkwall to its foundations._

_Enjoy!_

Dee stood in the ruins of what had been the chantry. Days earlier, she and others had defeated both Orsino and Meredith in a bloody battle that left the city wounded, her heart bleeding. The day before, she had located the body of the wise and sorely missed Grand Cleric, Elthina. She had been granted a hero's burial, her body burned in fires blessed by the few remaining brothers and sisters the Chantry had left. Among them was Sebastian Vael, his blue eyes wet, bloodshot and puffy from crying. Though he chose to fight by Dee's side in the end, her blade cutting down Anders, the man responsible for so many lives taken the day he brought the great Cathedral down, it was clear that he blamed her still. Talking to him did nothing.

As she stepped warily among the ruins, she found the pedestal the Chant of Light had stood upon. In a twist of irony, the book was largely intact. She carefully righted the book's resting place and reverently laid the singed tome upon it. "Forgive me, Maker. I am not a religious woman but I have faith enough to ask you to cleanse this book of its sorrow. I thank you…" She doubted the prayer would do much but it was not missed by one angry, depressed brother. His blue eyes raked her with unspoken rage as he watched her leave. He had been about to plant an arrow through her tunic to warn her that he was there. But her understanding of the great tome's importance caused him to hesitate.

He followed her to her new home, her office in the largely ruined Viscount's keep. The guards nodded to him, unaware that his anger had made him less than charitable toward their new leader. At a distance, he followed Deandra to her private suite where she threw aside her helm and then herself into a large chair near the fireplace. She heard the door open and saw the young archer standing there, his bow in his hand, an arrow notched.

"Really, Sebastian? From Chantry brother to bold assassin? What did I do now?" she asked, rolling her eyes. Casually, she rose to her feet and began tugging at the belts and buckles that held her armor to the fine chain that lay beneath it.

"Bitch…" he breathed in the shadow that fell across his face. His blue eyes stared ominously from it as he pierced her soul to its core with her grief. "You knew! You had to know! He…he was your friend!"

Once she was dressed in a simple cotton under-tunic, she started pulling off her shirt and pants. They were red now with blood soaked from wounds she had earned along with the wounds of those she'd moved, rescued and watched die in her arms. "Turn your back unless you want to violate a few of your vows," she suggested with a grin. It was like her to boldly joke in the face of death. Sebastian didn't admire the trait. He didn't turn around. Shrugging, she stripped herself naked before him and tossed the bloody garments into the fire. Naked, she walked into a bathing area that boasted plumbing and a sink that drained away the dirty water. He followed her, shadows seeming to cling to him as he moved. The pump was broken though the bath tub was filled with hot water, courtesy of a servant who had been alerted to her needs. She hadn't stripped herself of her armor since the battle.

"Tell me why you did it…" he demanded softly in his richly accented voice, emotion making it sound harsh even to him.

Deandra looked over her shoulder at him, wincing as she dabbed her fingers on a wound there that had begun to fester. "Sebastian, if you intend to kill me, do so swiftly so that you may begin the chantry's rebuilding. Or dab some of that salve on this wound. Otherwise, it may do the job for you."

Furious, he threw aside his bow and rushed her, grabbing her by her shoulders, his fingers digging into the painful wound. Sebastian thrust her against the wall, his rage uncontained now. "Why did you do it?" he shouted furiously at her.

She kicked him away from her. "Shit, Sebastian! What's got into you all of a sudden? Anders was my friend, its true but I never supported what he did and I loved my city too much not to make him pay for destroying my home. Now back the fuck off!"

He then back-handed her, forcing her head to snap around sharply. "You let Elthenia die! Because of your friend! Don't you care about what she did for us all?" he cried.

"What, by practically handing Meredith the city on a platter? Sebastian, my love, listen to me. The Templars had taken over and Meredith was insane. In the end, I supported the Templars but not because of that crazy bitch but because of myself, my desires to see the city restored. Now chill out before I have the guard haul you out on your ass."

She drew herself up against the wall and then carefully walked back over to him. The floor was wet from the water running down her body. The archer's outburst caused a new color, red, to join the water pooling at her feet as old, unhealed wounds reopened. She seemed oblivious to them as she laid her hands on his shoulders. "Listen to me, Love. If I could have, I would have hauled your mentor out by her ears if I had known what Anders planned. I hate that couldn't stop him. She was a good woman and I will miss her counsel." He struggled against her, a prayer whispered on his lips. He couldn't believe her! She was lying. Wasn't she lying?

His intention was to push her away but she was now with her back against the wall, leaning against it for support. He shoved his hands into her arms, pushing into her. "You were his friend… He loved you. He trusted you. Surely he divulged…something?"

Dee placed her hands on his face, holding it between them and forcing his striking blue eyes to meet her lavender gaze. "Sebastian, what you're asking for I cannot provide. Sadly, my crystal ball was having a bad week when he did his deed. You were there when he asked me to distract the grand cleric. You remember what I said, don't you?"

"You…you refused to help him." Came the soft reply as his eyes searched her face.

"I refused to help him. It would have betrayed you, the man I love, and the only man I love. Do you understand?"

He nodded slowly. It had been a long time since he'd heard those words from a woman and the last woman to speak them had been a favorite aunt. He found it very sad that after all these years, the only woman who had truly loved him was someone he would not have considered even if he'd been told by his deceased mentor herself. But here Dee was, so close, so naked and so speechlessly beautiful. He loved her, he realized but not in the way of the Maker, the discreet, chaste marriage of souls he'd once professed. Rather, she was woman, he was a man and the stirrings of his body made it very hard to concentrate on her face. He was thankful that she still held his cheeks in her hands.

Sighing, he leaned against her, enfolding her in his arms. Her fingers slowly traced the line of his angled face and into his hair, running through the soft, rich-brown locks. In the sun, his hair looked almost red. She had always been taken by his beauty and now, here, there was a spark between them she'd never felt before. It wasn't just sexual; it was as if the hand of the maker himself was addressing them with approval. "Do you feel it? The thing between us? Even if I wanted to, now, I couldn't take your life. I…I'm so sorry I doubted you."

She laughed as she pushed him away gently. "My wound is open again and since you no longer wish to see me dead, I suggest you help me care for it. I really hate blood. I see your perfect white armor remains unscathed," she complained with a lop-sided grin. He watched as she returned to her bath and then, as if stirring from a dream, he fetched the jar of salve that sat by the basin. Sebastian removed his gauntlets and set them aside so that he could perch himself on the edge of the tub and massage the the cream into Dee's wounded shoulder.

"So…you are a mage, an apostate yourself…" he began softly. Deandra cringed, hating that term. She had honestly never considered herself as anything more than a warrior who could work a few spells. She abhorred robes and staves, choosing instead the kind of armor of archers, light, flexible stuff that allowed her to move. Her weapon of choice was a special sword adapted to channeling magic. "…why did you support those who, in another life, would have slain you for working your magic?"

An honest question, she thought as she leaned into his gentle touch. "The simple answer is that I believe in what's right. True, mages are sorely repressed and our freedoms limited by Chantry rule. I suppose that by rights I should be against the Templars but again, it's not about the mages, the Templars or even the Chantry. It's about law, it's about order. I wanted to end it the best way I knew and that was to side against those whose own brutality and fears would force them to resort to demons to save themselves. I cannot condone that kind of chaos. Even as a…mage."

The archer's strong fingers kneaded her shoulders and neck, expertly caressing away the pain of the recent battles. "Hm…you sound like Aveline!" he said with a soft chuckle. He lowered his head to hers as she scrubbed away the blood. Dee's short, black waves tickled his nose. Nuzzling her, he breathed in the scent of her and the powerful draw of her body to his. Sebastian's lips traced her ears, her jaw and lingered in the sensitive place at the back of her neck as he fought the rising need within him. He'd been chaste for a long time but his body remembered passion and he remembered how to give it. It was so hard not to give in and as resolve faltered, compassion intervened. After several moments, it was Dee who stopped him.

"No, Sebastian. Don't start anything you can't finish. You must make certain that your vows no longer mean anything to you before you even begin. I will not become your greatest regret!" She climbed out of the water and reached for a towel, which Sebastian handed to her with a small smile. "I won't deny that I want to. I've likely been testing your resolve for years now, what with my persistent flirtation. But somewhere in there, love replaced lust and now I care too much to watch you debauch yourself needlessly."

He followed her into the bedroom as she continued to talk. Without a sound, his final decision made, Sebastian undid the buckles of his elaborate chest guard, arm plates and carefully dropped the white enameled pieces into a chair. His scale tunic soon joined the other armaments as did his leg guards. Soon, he wore his simple leather coat, pants and the other clothing he wore under it all. The coat was the first of his attire to join the armor. One way or another, he was going to sleep in her arms tonight and if that meant sex, then so be it. Or not. It didn't really matter at this point.

When she faced him again, her eyes betrayed her shock and utter delight. "Sebastian… I…!" she started as he approached her. The fingers gripping the front of her robe turned numb as he swept her into his arms and kissed her longingly. He tasted the sweetness of her mouth and delighted in the way her tongue hungrily probed him, dancing with his. She all but devoured his mouth, her hands gripping his face tightly. As they kissed, Sebastian's hands slid under her robe, gently touching her and listening for the little sounds she made as if they were invitations. When her hand strayed for the throbbing bulge in his crotch, he let his hand glide up the front of her to cup a heavy, round breast. Before he could draw the nipple into his mouth, he heard her gasp. Her hand was inside his leathern trews, her fingers curled around his cock.

"Maker! If this is what praying does for you Chantry boys, no wonder you're so devout!" she gasped with a little laugh. And then, almost reluctantly, she withdrew her hand and stood before him, her hands on his arms. The front of her robe draped across her breasts, displaying her moist pubis, almost framing it. "Sebastian, love…before things reach a point of no return, I need to know if this really is what you want. It's important that I know you're not doing this just to prove you can or as a way to deal with your grief. If you're in, you're in all the way."

Sebastian laughed as he pulled her close once again. "Don't you feel it, Dee? This is the Maker's wish! He wants us together because together, we can shape the Free Marches and make it home again. My place is by your side and a man can't very well have children or keep a woman happy with vows of chastity, you know. For once, I am glad Elthina didn't accept my request to be fully joined with the Chantry. She must have known more than any of us did." He kissed her then and when he easily picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, he knew that this was the point of no return. There was no going back anymore, ever.

Deandra pushed open his shirt and ran her hands across his smooth, tan skin. Maker, the man was lovely with smooth, compact muscles that added to the gracefulness of his body. His arms were powerful, his torso a sculptor's dream and his chest was smooth, dark and painfully lovely. She reached up and pulled him down on top of her. He kicked away his pants with a chuckle; at last they were even, his body now as nude as hers.

It had been years since he's been with a woman but passion never forgets, the body never forgets and Sebastian Vael, for all his time as a brother, had never forgotten how to please his partner. He showed her that even cloistered as he was until recently, he was perfectly capable of making her yelp with ecstasy. He reveled in the skill he'd once shown the ladies at the Rose and grinned when, after dining on the open flower between Deandra's thighs, she screamed loud enough the guards downstairs must have heard. With her passion sated, he ran his body along hers and carefully slid himself into her eagerly awaiting cunt. She was far tighter than he'd expected and he gasped with the unexpected sensation. Though he clearly remembered his last experience, he could not remember enjoying sex more.

When it was done, she laid there in the circle of his arms, her head against his shoulder in the dark of her room. A single candle glowed on the nightstand, illuminating his arms and face. "I told you once that we were married in the eyes of the Maker, in a chaste marriage of faith. Because the Maker clearly condones us being together, I think it only right that we be married in the eyes of man and country as well. Do you have a thought on this?" he asked her softly.

Startled, she flipped herself around so that she could look him in his bright, blue eyes. In the candle light, they were like the sea; a brilliant shade of depthless teal that seemed almost green. "You want to marry me? With a ceremony and everything? But…I'm a mage! Much as I keep trying to deny it but…"

He shrugged and cupped her face in his hand. "Yes but you're _my_ mage. I am not above telling people that you are a warrior with amazing equipment should they ask. Templars might sniff you out and if they do, I'll send them on their way. If the Maker wants us together then who am I to question His wishes? Especially if they are so close to my own."

She shoved him back against the mattress, her sweat-slicked body above his. Then, she fell on top of him, hugging him tightly and weeping her joy. "I want to make a joke, a joke about wine, flowers, a dinner over crustaceans and yet, I can't. All I can say is that, if this is a proposal, then Maker bless you! The answer is a resounding '_yes'_!"

After several moments of hugging and kissing him out of joy, Deandra settled in against him once more. "You were going to kill me tonight. What stopped you?" she asked him softly. She felt him stiffen against her. Then he lifted her chin with his fingers.

"I wasn't planning to kill you. I only wanted answers but you're right that I had an arrow notched at you when you were walking through the Chantry ruins. I almost confronted you then but you did something amazing… You raised the pedestal that the Great Book, the Chant of Light, rests upon and you returned it to its sacred spot. I heard your prayer to the Maker and I know that He smiled upon you in that moment. It is not the words of a prayer that make a difference but rather the intent behind it. You restored a bit of my own faith in that moment. I still intended to confront you but… I just couldn't do it then."

There was silence between them for a little while and then, Dee sighed. "I love you, Sebastian. I loathe the days to come. There is so much work, so much we have to do to restore Kirkwall. I'll need your help."

Sebastian kissed her deeply, his muscular arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. "Tomorrow, I will send word to Starkhaven that I am returning and that I have a fiancé. Together, we will return to Starkhaven to claim my throne. With the Champion of Kirkwall as my betrothed, my opposition will melt away like soft butter in the presence of a hot knife. My thought is that we should be married there, in our small chantry. Before you say anything, the political ramifications of marrying you only just occurred to me. Stop looking at me like that. Once my kingdom is my own again, I will return with you to Kirkwall and we will bring with us an army of people eager to help rebuild the city."

Dee nodded as she straddled his groin, positioning herself to take advantage of his growing erection. "And we will rebuild the Grand Cathedral, Sebastian. We will make it greater than ever. It will be sad not to see Elthina in its hallowed halls but… At least it will be here. Now… 'Husband'… your 'wife' is going to take you so I would like to cease further planning in favor of much less cerebral activities!" Starkhaven's Prince laughed as they made love yet again and again.

They did travel to Starkhaven where only a token struggle for the throne greeted them. The people, for the most part, opened their arms to the new couple and welcomed Sebastian's return. They were married within days, the urgency of the union for the sake of Starkhaven's people. They soon returned to Kirkwall along with hundreds of eager masons, workers, contractors and builders of all kinds. Surface Dwarves in Varric's far-reaching network of contacts descended on the city in droves, eager to take part in the city's rebirth.

For their part, though they lead from different thrones, the Prince and princess Consort became the most celebrated couple in the Free Marches. For the foreseeable future, faith and family kept them together and love bridged the spaces when they had to be apart. It wasn't an easy union to be sure and Dee spent the better part of her first pregnancy without her husband due to unrest in the city but neither one complained. In coming together, they had both discovered the keys to the rebirth and salvation of their lands. A better union could not have existed had it been planned.

But did they live happily ever after? Only the future knows.

End


End file.
